Author
Topic: The Dark Traveler (Read 3672 times)

It was a sight to behold, if you ask any mortal standing inside the tavern that Pacificat Varsian Romain was about to enter.

The cloak that wears him entered the room a moment before the Dark Lord entered. The black material was so deep it held the attention of the eye. As his foot hits the tavern floor he scans the room for other Humans, then for the rest of the lesser life forms.

He approaches the bar, places two coins side by side in front of the bar tender and points very tenderly to the bottle of Iron Gut which was seemingly waiting on him. After a quick nod of acknowledgement the dumb founded bar tender served his drink.

Another coin slides across the table, another nod takes place between the two. The newcomer to the tavern had now made his appearance known, especially standing over seven feet tall. Little did he know what would happen next, but he's sure that he would need at least one more Iron Gut...

A shout comes from outside the Citadel Tavern and a penguin, curiously and ridiculously dressed in an insane pirate costume complete with hat-and-giant-feathery-plume, rose-tinted goggles, and an eyepatch. A wooden toy sword is thrust through his sash.

He leaps across the room and lands on top of the bar, slinging a frosty mug of salty, green, foamy grog at the dark stranger.

A hint of a smile crossed the black clad traveller's face. He noticed the penguin as he entered the door, but what would come next was almost near insanity. The penguin hopped on the bar, a mug of some disgusting ale graced his hand. "Y'arr Matey!" the Penguin shouts, apparently his crude form of introduction.

That was of no matter to the traveller who watched the brief show as he sipped his Iron Gut. "Greetings, Captain."

The words seemed to echo through the penguin's head. With pleasantries out of the way, Romain motioned to his acquantance to join him for a sit.

A tall, deadly lloking elf with a large longbow strung across his shoulder, and a small sling on his right hip, approaches the stranger."Don't mind the Captain, he'll calm down once he gets to know you."*Leaning closer he whispers in the mans ear*"A word of advice, take the grog offered by our penguin friend!"

Romain notices an elf approaching him, quickly he places both hands on offensive weapons that he has located deep beneath his cloak, only to be seen if required. When he notices the elf has intentions only of welcoming the stranger he relaxes his grip, however he does not remove his hands from beneath his cloak.

"A word of advice, take the grog offered by our penguin friend."

Anxious in his new surroundings, the Dark Lord quickly combs over the events that just took place. He notices the equipment that the elf is sporting. It looks as if he is extremely armed. He also notices something about the sentence he spoke our friend. He chuckled to himself.

Standing up he swigged his Iron Gut.

"No need for grog. It is not a drink for this traveller." He quickly places three coins in the elf's left hand. "Choose your poison."

*Sniperspy is slightly taken aback at the stranger's insolence* "excuse me, but our bar is not "poison" as you so delicatly put it. We would appreciate a bit more respect from a fellow traveller, as we were all one at one time."

A slight scraping noise can be heard coming from the bottom of the tavern door. One of the patrons graciously opens it allowing a small squirrel to enter. It would not be so interesting if the squirrel didn't have a full rack of squirrel sized antlers.

The small creature skittered acrooss the tavern floor, climbed up a large rope that was twisted around the support at the end of the bar. The squirrel skittered up to Pacificat with it's small little claws tapping on the counter. As the squirrel approaced Pacificat the barkeep set down a bowl of chocolate covered pretzels.

"Naaah, what's up dark gloomy stranger? This here is a safe place for all that come without the intenting harm. No need to be on the defensive. I give you my word. Relax, have a pretzel.

A short woman with long, brown hair and spectacles comes in. She looks something like a scholar, because she is. A sharp eye can detect ink stains on her hands, and there is a feather quill tucked behind her ear. She grabs a pretzel from the bowl. "Hail and welcome to the Citadel. I'm Ria Hawk. Don't mind the silliness."

Amazed by the amount of people entering the tavern, the dark one hesitated. ((actually, I had to go out after work yesterday and couldn't respond)).

With a large sigh he relaxes slightly, his right hand still tucked beneath his cloak clutching a weapon of no description.

"I have never denied advice from a squirrel...a scholar...and a drunken penguin before." His open hand reaches down below his cloak, right above his right boot. "For my companions." A large velvet bag slams to the bar, the clinging of precious metals is heard throughout the tavern.

"Drink as kings and pay like bums, its on me." Those were the last words heard out of the traveller's mouth before he turned his Iron Gut up for a long guzzle...

"I can't believe they just gather like that!!! I try and get them ou-... Hello" A young woman brightly smiles, knowing full and well that the Traveller must find her odd speaking to herself. "I am Almatari, Shieldmaiden here at the Citadel, I trust you have met most of the others," She looks from Captain Penguin To Sniperspy and Ria, not to mention the squirrel with antlers. "Ahhh, chocolate covered pretzels. Can I have some, mate?" She asked the bartender who added another bowl to the counter. Almatari wisked them off the table and walked over to the big comfey chair by the fireplace. "If you need me I'll be over here!" she paused, "Oh! You are all invited to a party for my birthday that can last far into the next century!"

Logged

Trees!!!A tree fell in the forest. A man didn't hear it. He is now dead.